


Dragon Age Father Drabbles

by beta_twin_writes



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Domestic Fluff, maybe some angst lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 02:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8560891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beta_twin_writes/pseuds/beta_twin_writes
Summary: Do the kids still call them drabbles? I'm not sure. What I am sure of is how much I love domestic shit. Enjoy some fluff about Dragon Age dads. You've earned it, kiddo.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Good Lord, I will probably edit this later

      Zevran collapsed to his knees, his hands shaking under the screaming infant. His Warden breathed heavily with relief, and every inch of his tense body urged him to praise her. Crack a joke. Anything. But he couldn't find the words. He was coming down from so much fear and anxiety that he couldn't even move. He blinked, forced himself to breathe, and focused.

      He heard the pounding footfalls of the villagers he had managed to find after his Warden could no longer endure travelling through the forest in his arms. His love and the baby would be safer once the kind strangers had arrived. He sent out a silent message of gratitude for any force that had been watching over them that day. Luck had been with them to have been travelling so close to a town.

      He had desperately hoping that a doctor could've delivered the baby, but by the time he had returned from getting help, it was already time. He could barely remember what happened, but through his panicked state he knew he was with her when she needed him most. He hadn't even bothered to check what gender the baby was.

      Sweet Maker, _his_ baby. He was far more terrified than he thought he'd be. He couldn't believe it was real. He felt light-headed, but forced himself to focus once more. Breathe. He glanced over to his love, exhaustedly gazing up at him with the fondest smile. He felt tears begin to swell up behind his eyes; she was alright. He looked down at the crying mess in his arms. A girl- oh Maker, a little girl. His arms began to shake as he tried to hold back tears because if anyone should be crying it should be the Warden. But she was so strong and wonderful, and he had seen her perform some amazing feats but never something like this.

      As the villagers approached with cloths and water, Zevran carefully slipped the infant into the Warden's arms. He stepped aside, letting the kind strangers do their work. He still felt dizzy, like he couldn't believe that all of it was real. The villagers took the Warden to finish the birthing process, and the whole trip back he couldn't wrap his mind around it. If someone had told him three years ago that he'd be a father, he wouldn't have believed it. Though he couldn't believe it even now, what he really wondered was how the Zevran from three years ago would've _felt._ Would he have abandoned them? Would he have laughed at the thought? He couldn't imagine that the thought could elicit enthusiasm in any form.

      But now? He still couldn't put a finger on it. The whole pregnancy he had been right by his Warden's side watching over her and indulging her in her excited ideas. However, it never registered in his mind that it was really going to happen and that he'd be a father. He didn't once think about how he felt about it. To be honest, he didn't really want to. He had never had a father, how was he supposed to feel? What was he supposed to do? He had always thought he end up dead before he got someone pregnant. But with her, the woman he loved and cherished more than anyone else, he couldn't bear to disappoint her by being anything less than the father she deserved for her child.

      _Their_ child.

      But later, when he was laying by the Warden, holding the calm, wide-eyed baby in his arms, he let it all out. In the peace of the quiet evening all the fears and anxiety that he never allowed himself to feel came out. The tears rolled down his face. He was terrified of being a parent and letting them all down. He had no experience, no plan, and no examples to go off of. For the briefest moment he felt resentment towards the life he had been forced into living this whole time. He felt that if he had somehow been a better person, maybe he'd know what to do now. But Maker's breath, he was grateful to not have a son. He was horrified by the thought of having one turn out like him.

      Although, through the tears and suppressed emotions, he knew one thing: he was so unbelievably happy. He cried, and the woman he loved hold him in her arms, and he held their daughter, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Beyond the fears and doubts he knew that for the first time in his life, he had a real family. He had a real connection with these two people, and what could be more beautiful than that? He _made_ a precious, living thing with the woman he'd spend the rest of his life with. He wasn't ready for it, he didn't believe he deserved it, but he knew he'd do anything to give these two beautiful woman the best possible life with him

 

     


End file.
